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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23160499">It comes in flashes</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elisexyz/pseuds/Elisexyz'>Elisexyz</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Once Upon a Time (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Canon Compliant, Cuddling &amp; Snuggling, F/M, Non-Consensual Drug Use</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 12:09:26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>740</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23160499</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elisexyz/pseuds/Elisexyz</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“We should check out New York, someday.”</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Baelfire | Neal Cassidy/Emma Swan</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>13</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>It comes in flashes</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/whynotcherries/gifts">whynotcherries</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Written for the Tumblr prompt: <a href="https://heytheredeann.tumblr.com/post/613589154531524608/could-i-request-30-swanfire-pleaseee">"You smell like vanilla." + Swanfire</a>. This... took a different direction than I had originally planned, but hopefully you will enjoy it anyway ^^" Also it's three thousand years late because I've been very lazy about writing this past week/ten days, sorry!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“We should check out New York, someday,” Emma says, thoughtfully.</p><p>She elbows him lightly, holding up the map that some tourists left behind in their motel room, inviting him to take a look. Neal isn’t sure what for, given that he doesn’t need to see the little dot on the map to know what New York means.</p><p>“Really?” he asks, vaguely amused. He shifts a little, securing his hold on her as she, back against his chest, grabs onto his arm, giving him a squeeze. “New York? Big city full of people, a little misanthropist like you?” he adds, his tone teasing.</p><p>This time, the elbow digs deeper into his side, making him mutter an ‘ow’ of protest, even as he grins.</p><p>“Shut up, I’m not a misanthropist,” she lies through her teeth, offended. “And I didn’t say anything about living there forever, did I?”</p><p>Well, no, she didn’t. Still, he’d bet that she’d become ridiculously grumpy at the first busy street.</p><p>“Just to check it out, I’m curious,” she concludes, setting the map aside and getting better settled against him instead, holding onto his arms with both hands.</p><p>It’s a comfortable position, even though there’s something sticking in his back, but he does kinda wish that he could have a better view of the way she looks right now.</p><p>“Okay,” he eventually says, because, well, if Emma wants to see New York they are going to see New York. It’s not like he much cares where they are anyway. “Let’s add it to our to-do list.”</p><p>She twists her torso to look up to him, offering a bright smile and a quick kiss on the lips. When she turns back and he comes to rest his chin on her hair, all that he can smell is vanilla.</p><p>He frowns, confused, though not unhappy about it. “You smell like vanilla.”</p><p>She snorts. “Nice try, the only thing that I smell like is someone who needs a <em>shower</em>.”</p><p>“No, no, seriously, you —”</p><p>He blinks, the smell somehow growing stronger, making him dizzy.</p><p>It’s familiar, prickling at his nose as he grimaces, something in the back of his mind pushing him to <em>run</em>.</p><p>He’s smelled this before.</p><p>(Well, of course he has, it’s vanilla, it’s not that unusual.)</p><p>This is <em>wrong.</em></p><p>(It’s just a smell, what’s so dangerous about —?)</p><p><em>Run, run, run </em>—</p><p>“Neal, are you alright?”</p><p>Emma’s voice seems so far away, her weight against his chest getting lighter and lighter as the world around him keep spinning, and the only thing he can smell is the damn vanilla, his mind bringing him back to —</p><p>Neverland.</p><p>Shit.</p><p>His stomach drops as his back hits against something, his hand reaching out blindly for support, because for all that he blinks his vision is still foggy. Emma is gone.</p><p>“How’s our guest?” echoes Pan’s voice, teasing and so <em>alarming</em> that everything in him wants to make him jump on his feet, try to fight — he can’t even seem to lift his head, and everything is still spinning.</p><p>Where’s Emma?</p><p>He needs to — he came there to get <em>something</em> —</p><p><em>Henry</em>, where’s Henry?</p><p>“We drugged him,” says Felix, and for a second everything makes more sense: the smell of vanilla, the spinning, his arms that suddenly weight too much to move — the clarity doesn’t even last long enough for him to collect his thoughts. “He’ll be asleep for a while.”</p><p>Where’s Emma? She was there a second ago — no, she wasn’t, he was trying to — Neverland, he’s in <em>Neverland</em>, he can see the cage, he’s trapped, he needs to — his head is heavy, his eyes burn and fight him not to stay open, and he doesn’t know how to stop it when his chest gets tight and something begins pulling him back — or rather, it’s more like a lullaby, letting him sink back into a better place, until there’s nothing more around him but dark, and the wood pressing against his back is as comfortable as the backseat of a car.</p><p>“Neal!” Emma’s voice startles him. She’s lying against his chest, a map in her hands. “Are you listening to me?”</p><p>“Uh, yeah —” he’s quick to say, his brain trying to recover from the momentary distraction. “Yeah, what were you saying?”</p><p>Emma’s snort tells him that she knows he’d been spacing out, but she doesn’t call him out on it. “We should check out New York, someday,” she says, instead, thoughtfully.</p><p>That doesn’t sound half bad.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This story is part of the <a href="https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/llfcommentproject">LLF Comment Project</a>, which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates comments, including:
</p>
<ul>
<li>Short comments</li>
<li>Long comments</li>
<li>Questions</li>
<li>“&lt;3” as extra kudos</li>
<li>Reader-reader interaction</li>
</ul><p>If you don’t want a reply, for any reason, feel free to sign your comment with “whisper” and I will appreciate it but not respond!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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